Subterranean Odyessy
by Rabid Ostrich
Summary: The search for Atlantis, through a certain pyrotechnic's eyes. ('Atlantis: The Lost Empire' rewrite)
1. A Story Unfolds

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**Subterranean Odyessy**   
..(Chapter I)..   
  
  
*** 

Boring. That isn't the correct term to describe my life. I've seen it all, been there and done that. I've been blown apart, kicked, shoved, thrown, beaten and dragged along on some of the most outrageous expeditions the world had ever seen. Do I regret anything? You could say that. For what? I regret ever having to live in that hellhole known as prison. Then again, if I never did see those filth-encrusted walls, I would have been reduced to nothing but an old man in a flower shop. From the time I was propelled out the window of a flower shop on some dank street in Italy by a gas explosion, my life changed; for better or for worse. 

I've seen it all; Greed, corruption, deception, murder. And yet, a little glimmer of hope arises from the pandora's box of humanity. 

My name is Vincenzo Satorini. This is my life. This is my story. 

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It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The industrial revolution was steadily growing and inventions were spewing out of every factory in every industrialized nation, yet at the same time Europe was thrown into the frenzy of war. But enough with this history lesson. With the new technology and vehicles, explorations were easily becoming more prolific. 

And thus, these inventions changed my way of life. My life was changed in part by one man. No wait, make that two. Two old explorers with enough money that you could choke a whole herd of elephants with it if you wanted. Thattus Thatch was a bit of a kook in my eyes, but he sure did know his stuff. He was my employer on my first archelogy expedition to Iceland to retrieve some legendary story book to find the lost city of Atlantis. I thought it was just plain a waste of money and that said book didn't exist, but hey, a job was a job. Boy did I end up eating my words. 

The second man, Preston Whitmore, is one whom I admire. Not because of his intellect. Oh hell no. That guy was crazy as a fruit, but, I do owe him my life. I was imprisoned in Turkey for supposedly blowing up a rival entrepanuer (which I am completely innocent of, honest). The prison I was held in was like a Hell on earth. No food and barely any water; I was about an inch from death when a couple of Whitmore's minions came and busted me out. Little did I know that those minions were also my comrades-to-be on my upcoming journey. 

The expedition was nothing special. Basically we wandered all over the entire country of Iceland before Thatch threw down his stuff and said: "Dig". I was skeptical, I'll admit, but I'll never pass up a chance to make things go boom. A couple of hours and 2 tons of dynamite later, the expedition crew was posed in front of a camera, the legendary Sheperd's Journal cradled in Thatch's arms. 

That little book changed my life. For that I am thankful. Now only time will tell what happens from here on in. 


	2. The Expedition Begins

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**Subterranean Odyessy**   
..(Chapter II)..   
  
  
*** 

"..second daughter of two, class of 1913 with a G.P.A of--- WAAAAAAH!" 

From a relatively safe distance, I watched Mole sail across the ship's deck after attempting to 'read' the dirt of our young mechanic, Audrey Ramirez. I had met her father on the last expedition and if she is as capable as he was, it would be smooth sailin' for us, mechanical wise. She huffed slightly and stalked over to me. 

"Go easy on 'em. He's always like that," I said coolly in my usual monotonous voice. She snorted and looked back at where Mole had landed, a nice big fist mark on his cheek. 

"Oh yeah? Jus' tell 'em that if he touches me again...I'll give him a broken nose to along with that black eye," Audrey said in a thick Spanish accent before heading back to the loading bay. 

I leaned against the wall of the ship and gnawed on the match in my mouth. I had only a few sticks of dynamite left to load onto the sub and they were already in a small pushcart. Mole came waddling up, rubbing his cheek. 

"Ish...what iz 'er problem?" 

"Dunno. 'Guess she just dunne like French guys named after a small terrestrial mammal that read their entire life history from a small piece of dirt from under their fingernail." I shrugged. "Or...could be..." 

I didn't get the chance to finish what I was going to say as Mrs. Packard, the communications specialist, spoke over the PA. 

"Attention, All hands to the launch bay. To whomever took the 'L' from the motor pool sign, Ha Ha, we are all very amused." 

I looked down at Mole, the letter 'L' in hand. He was giggling furiously. I rolled my eyes and wheeled my cart of explosives to the elevator. The elevator started with a jolt and ended with a jolt. I made a beeline for the sub but some dorky looking red-haired kid with these huge glasses stood in my way. What do I do? Run him over, of course. Heh. Heh. 

"Hey Junior. If you're looking for the pony rides, they're back there." I sarcastically jabbed a thumb behind me as I walked past him. 

"Excuse me, Excuse me?" The red haired man called after me. "You uh...dropped your dy-dy-dy-dyanamite. Eh heh heh," he laughed shakily as I wheeled back to retrieve my lost dynamite. "...what else do you...uh...got in there?" 

Dork. "Oh...eh...gunpowder. Nitroglycerin...notepads...fuses, wicks, glue..and...eh, paperclips. Big ones," The man looked at me as if I were a complete lunatic. "Just, y'know. Office supplies." 

I wheeled my cart up the ramp and into the storage area just as Packard was announcing the final warning before launch. I met up with Audrey again. 

"Uh, Yo. Where can I put these?" 

She took a quick look at me then glanced into the cart. "Take them to Evacsub 1," was all she said as she scribbled some stuff onto a clipboard. 

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With my explosives safely packed into one of the evacsubs, I decided to head for the bridge, but not before packing a few of the cherry bombs and m-80's into my own shoulder bag. Never know when ya goin' ta need 'em. Especially in a submarine. Eeh. On my way to the bridge, I ducked into one of the bunks to change my shirt, seeing as I didn't need to be wearing a thick wool jacket on a heated submarine. I met up with Dr. Sweet, the expedition's physician, instead. 

"VINNY! Long time no see! Heck, that was convenient, I was just going to go look for you." Sweet said as he took a step toward me. I didn't need to even ask why he wanted me. "Okay, now open your mouth and say 'Aah'." 

"No Sweet...this really isn't a-- ugh!" my speech was impaired as Sweet shoved a wooden tongue depressor down my throat. 

"So, how've ya been? The family flower shop still in business?" Sweet asked me, though it was obvious that I couldn't answer coherently in my present state. I garbled an 'affirmative'. He retracted the wooden stick and stuck a thermometer in my mouth. "Aah, good ta hear. Good ta hear." Sweet took the thermometer from my mouth a few moments later and turned to his bag. "Stay right there, Vinny..." I knew what was coming next...and I didn't wish to stick around for it. 

"Hey, y'know. It was nice seein' you again, Sweet...but, eh, I think I hear Packard calling. See you later!" I skitted out that door faster than you could blink. Sweet's protests echoed off the walls just as I ducked down another corridor and was out of eyeshot. 


End file.
